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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170786">Dear Therapist: I’ve been dwelling on my dreams too much recently</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JekyllXCLin/pseuds/JekyllXCLin'>JekyllXCLin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MYSELF - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:34:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JekyllXCLin/pseuds/JekyllXCLin</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dear Therapist: I’ve been dwelling on my dreams too much recently</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Y.+Wu">Y. Wu</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Therapist, </p>
<p>This is my first time to do such a thing, but I’ve been dwelling on my dreams too much recently and I don’t know what I can do.<br/>Let me introduce myself briefly first. I’m a doctor, exactly a house physician, working somewhere in China. I just graduated with a Ph.D. last year and my work is so heavy that poor sleep really matters a lot to me.</p>
<p>In brief, I have dreamt queer things for about a week, maybe. Every time I woke up, I found myself as tired as being run over by a train and I was so sleepy during the day that 3 shots of espresso couldn’t wake me up, so now you’ll understand how serious it is.</p>
<p>Where should I begin? Maybe I should tell you about my dreams first. They were really, really queer.</p>
<p>The first night, I think, was the day right a year after the first time I spotted my patient died. He was actually one of the participants of our program. It was about lung cancer and to be honest, though we were making progress, it was still too slow comparing with cancer itself. He once told me how he wished he could meet his granddaughter in her winter vacation, but I haven’t seen him since the end of that summer, because he quitted then and died at the beginning of winter.</p>
<p>Back to my dream that night, I first dreamed about every test that I’ve been through in my life, but this time I fucked up all of them. Soon I realized it can’t be true because if I had failed the very first several important tests, I couldn’t have been admitted to my university, not to mention being a doctor. So I tried to wake up and made it. I checked my WeChat and looked at the photographs of me and my coworkers in white coats, then I drank some cold water to cool myself and lied down again. This time I dreamt my patients died one after another. They died during surgery, or in ICU, or sheltered accommodation, or even at home. No wonder that they were all very painful. They didn’t recover any a bit whatever I tried. I think I was running here and there then, attending funerals maybe. Actually, we doctors don’t have to attend our patients' funeral generally, but I did in my dream. I did many times and I don’t know why.</p>
<p>After I woke up, I felt even more tired than before and sat on my bed with my brain blank for several minutes. Then I went back to work for about 24 hours I think, and I dreamt of another dream.<br/>This time, my parents complained about my girlfriend when we were eating at home. They said she wasn’t well-educated, her family wasn’t rich and her degree can never help her find a good job with both a high salary and enough holiday for a family. I guess it was a dream because I haven’t been home for several years. If they want to visit me, they will fly straight to my city, but why did I dream a dream like this? My girlfriend and I fell in love when we were 18. We were classmates then and went to this city for university together. Now we’re both 27, which is no big deal to me but a very important period of time to her. She is desperate to get married while I’m not, and that’s the point. Maybe it’s a hint and maybe not. Though I always put on my ring, sometimes I do feel from the bottom of my heart that we won’t get married. If someone tells me she’s been dating someone else, I wouldn’t be surprised.</p>
<p>Then I went back to work again. I was on duty, but luckily it wasn’t a busy night, so I slept on my table. I dreamed that my father had lung cancer. He was just upstairs with my mother. I went there to visit him. His doctor informed me about his poor situation. I don’t think there are a lot of people knowing lung cancer better than I do, but it just happened to my father? What a joke! I thought it was a dream. I tried to wake up but failed, so I tried to walk back to my seat and fall asleep again.</p>
<p>Later, there was a rescue and they woke me up to help. After taking off our masks, I found my old friend was there too. He now works as an emergency physician.</p>
<p>Then came something strange. My mother called me to buy some cups and bedclothes and take them upstairs. It wasn’t a dream. My father was really in hospital. Since then I’ve found it a little hard to tell dreams from reality.</p>
<p>Then I slept less and less. When I was off duty, I had to look after my father so that my mother could sleep for a while. Everyone who has taken care of a patient with cancer knows how difficult it feels. You have to be a gambler. You take all your assets to comfort your soul even when you know he or she is unlikely to survive.</p>
<p>My girlfriend called me once during this because I didn’t reply to her WeChat for too long. She also asked me when I would marry her, but I told her I was even busier than before recently. She didn’t speak too much and promised to see me when she’s free. I once thought about talking with my mother about all of this, all of this shit, but I know she can’t be in the mood. Neither of us can. It’s coldblooded but I did put my father in front of my girlfriend, who was most likely to be my wife then, and I wasn’t hesitant at all.</p>
<p>The next time we completed a rescue, I found my friend smoking on the square in front of our hospital gate. I spotted there was a ring on his ring finger, but I couldn’t find mine. Maybe it’s already in the pacific ocean now. I asked, “You’re going to get married?” He said, “Yes, with Laura(of course not her real name). You know her.”</p>
<p>Of course, I know her, they two have been together since they knew how it feels to fall in love. He said he was trying to quit smoking so that they can have a healthier baby.</p>
<p>“That’s good. You’ll make a good daddy.”I said. He smiled.</p>
<p>Then I asked for a cigarette from him. He said that he couldn’t remember when I started smoking. I said, “of course, I don’t know you’re an emergency physician a few days before either.”</p>
<p>When I lit my cigarette, he rested his arms on the handrail and asked me if I can still remember my first love. I said I couldn’t, but I lied. I can, actually.</p>
<p>The next day, I just bought a pack of cigarettes from a 7-11 and lit up one on the corner of the street. Then someone patted my shoulder and said, “Don’t you remember that I asked you not to smoke and you promised when our chain smoker Chinese teacher died of a heart attack?” I was shocked to see her, my first love, and all I could do was hide my cigarette behind my back at once, but she began smoking with me. If I remembered it right, her grandfather died of lung cancer too.</p>
<p>Then we went to her apartment. She cooked some crabs and we ate them and drank some liquor together. I remember it was also a season for eating crabs when we were first in love. She said, “I once told you that I would spare their legs for my father. You said you would do it too because you were wearing a teeth brace then.” Hearing this, I found there were more shells of legs than there should be. </p>
<p>She asked about my girlfriend—we really broke her heart then—and I told the truth. “Girls are like this. Of course, she wants you to marry her. It’s good to have someone looking after your family and support your work at our age.” She touched my fingers with hers. Then I noticed there was a trace of a ring on my finger. I knew she must have noticed it—she’s always been Miss Holmes.<br/>I told her about my father’s illness and my depressed mother. I didn’t talk to too many people because I thought it will be an emotional burden to others, but I always think of her as a good listener. I always know she loves me no matter how I’ve hurt her. </p>
<p>After listening to all those stuff, she put my hands in hers and said, “Hold on, baby, hold on. I’ve been through stuff like this a long time ago. I know how it hurts, but you have to hold on. If you still can’t, just come to me.”</p>
<p>I thought I was drunk then. I can drink a lot normally, but I was drunk that day. I asked her, “Do you remember why we broke up last time?”</p>
<p>She thought for a while, and said, “Maybe we just grow up way too fast.”</p>
<p>I repeated her words in a whisper, “Maybe we just grow up way too fast.” Then I was unconscious. </p>
<p>When I woke up, I was alone in my own bed. One of our mutual friends texted me that she hanged herself last night. At her funeral, he said it was not my fault, at least not all my fault. He said she just had been through way too much. I know all these shits she’s been through made her very tired, but I can’t help feeling guilty and piteous. Maybe we two could quit smoking together and have a healthy and happy baby. She would be a good mother and I would be a good father. At least I would try. Now She's gone and I have nowhere to go.</p>
<p>And now sometimes I’m confused if I really met her, or if she really touched my hand with her finger, or if she comforted me with her words that day.</p>
<p>If I really met her that day, why was there no policeman coming to talk with me?</p>
<p>If she really touched my finger and suggest I come to her, why did she killed herself and leave me nowhere to go?</p>
<p>The only thing I knew was that my ring was really gone and my girlfriend hasn’t appeared ever since. My father’s condition and my mother’s emotions are getting worse. Sometimes I think this world is too lonely a place to me, and the picture will be bleaker soon. Sometimes I smoke, but sometimes I feel guilty about breaking my promise.</p>
<p>Where can I go now? </p>
<p>Help me. </p>
<p>Help me.</p>
<p>Help me, please.</p>
<p>Anonymous</p>
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